


Item Request

by Hinotori



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, M/M, awkward arthur, the world needs more charthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 09:59:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18428234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinotori/pseuds/Hinotori
Summary: Charles unknowingly gives Arthur an item request. Arthur obliges despite his embarrassement.This is fluffy, though the idea of a NSFW item request will also be considered xxx





	Item Request

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jaegervega](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaegervega/gifts).



Walking into Saint Denis is unnerving. It shouldn’t be, not really - none of the arguably decent folk that live here know him, and the crudely drawn wanted posters with his face are not plastered all over the walls this far East. Yet, there’s sweat matting his hair to his forehead under the rim of his hat and staining his armpits. He’s acutely aware of people staring at him, his horse, the patches on his pant legs and the gunshot hole on his hat. It makes him tip his head low, avoiding their gazes even when he says “hello” to the occasional passer by who’s eyeing him too suspiciously to break the tension.

 

All in all, Arthur hates this - this city, these people - they make him feel out of place, unwelcome and unwanted, desperate to run like a cornered animal under their intense gazes and hushed whispers. He’s felt unwelcome before, having never truly fit in with “society”, whatever that means. But civilised society appears to be something even less meant for him, for all of them.

 

Yet, he pushes on through the crowd, trying to not wipe his sweat too obviously and to pass by as unnoticed as possible. Later, he’ll wonder why he didn’t just leave his horse at the stables at the edge of town and inconspicuously make his way through town, but he’s too rattled up by nerves to think of that now. If he was here for reconnaissance, or to rob a shop or  pick up food or medicine for the camp, he’d pay no mind to all this - not the crowds, not the humid air, not his own musk that had suddenly assaulted his nostrils once he entered the city proper.

 

But no, he’s here for something else, and he feels like it’s written across his back and his front and the sides of his mustang. He wants to back out, but just as he’s entertaining the thought of turning tail and running, he turns around the corner and sees his target.

 

The photo studio seems innocent, because of course it does, but he still hesitates to dismount. His hands shake when he hitches his horse and gives it an encouraging pat to assure her he won’t be gone for long. As he walked up to the door, he takes the time to take in a deep breath and exhale it slowly, calming himself as much as he can.

 

“Hey, mister,” he greets before he’s even fully inside, fiddling with the rim of his hat “I, uh…I’d like a photo taken of…of me. Can you do that?”

 

The man looks up at him from the camera he was fiddling with, eyes him up and down. The few seconds feel like hours, but the man finally beams into a smile “Of course, young man, it’s what we do here!” Before he knows it, the man is grabbing Arthur by his arm and tugging him towards the painting in the back of the studio. Arthur isn’t sure if this is making him more or less nervous, but he’s grateful for the man’s enthusiasm, at least. “Would you care to pick a background? We have some beautiful pieces-“

 

“Anythin’s fine, really.” The shopkeep is eager to show him nevertheless, murmuring to himself all the while about what would suit Arthur’s hair and his clothes, and bragging about how he acquired these pieces. It’s always inspiring to see someone so passionate about their trade, Arthur decides, which makes him feel less weird about the whole situation.

 

It had been his idea, a gift he had planned for Charles for quite some time. Two weeks back, when they’d been lying on the porch of the small cabin by the swamp near Shady Belle in the small hours of the night, praises of Arthur’s face slowly trickling out of Charles’ mouth and making him blush, Charles had sleepily said something to him. Arthur was just about to fall asleep, already dozing under the gentle words and the way Charles was petting his hair, when his lover had murmured he’d love to be able to see Arthur even when they were apart.

 

It had made him blush, then, the sweetness of it mixed with his own confusion as to why anyone would want his ugly mug in their pocket at all times, but Charles had explained unprompted. “I’d like to be able to look at you, and to kiss your face, and soil that photograph every time either of us is away.” The nonchalant way he’d said it had made Arthur flush all the way down to his chest and bury his face in Charles’ bare thigh, groaning some words of protest he can’t quite remember, earning a low, affectionate laugh.

 

He’d been so embarrassed and yet so turned on by the idea that he’d taken his own camera and tried to take his own photo several times, but it had never worked out - he couldn’t figure out how to point it at his own face and still operate it properly. He’d taken a few shots that he was never going to develop, and even tried standing in front of a mirror, but the glass was so filthy he hadn’t even bothered pressing the button. Asking anyone to do it for him was completely out of the question, so he’d been left with only one option - ride into the big city wearing what Charles had pointed out to be his favourite shirt in Arthur’s modest wardrobe once, and get his likeness taken by a professional. Charles deserved the best if not better than that, so this was worth the five dollars. Sparing himself having to explain to Dutch or Hosea or whoever he had asked why he suddenly wants a photo taken was a definite bonus, however.

 

“Ah, yes, this’ll do!” The photographer clapped his hands together and jogged over to his camera “A rough looking gentleman such as yourself fits well in this bar!” Arthur’s inclined to agree, even though he’s suddenly concerned about whether Charles would like it. He hopes it doesn’t matter. Remembering why it is that Charles wanted the photo in the first place makes his face and neck burn.

 

“Stand right there and strike a pose for me, mister” the photographer urges him.

 

“How do I..?”

 

“However you’re comfortable - maybe…” the man walks over to him again, quick and certain, and Arthur has to fight his instincts to not step backward and draw his gun at the assault. He stumbles a bit anyway, once the man puts his hands on Arthur’s shoulders to push them back, and spins his hips just so, and then tilts his head up by the chin so that he’s looking down at the camera. “There! You look like you really mean business now, haha! Like one of them wild cowboys!”

 

“Sure,” Arthur stutters, avoiding looking at the photographer. He wants Charles’ hands on him instead, and he suddenly hopes this gift will get him that sooner than expected.

 

“Now, now, look at the camera!” As he does, the flash goes off, blinding him for a moment. “Perfect! I’ll go develop this for you real quick, feel free to take a seat.”

 

By the time the shopkeep comes back, Arthur has drifted off into his own thoughts - thoughts of Charles - and is itching for a cigarette. “Here you go! I’m telling you, mister, the missus this is for will surely be delighted!”

 

Arthur laughs nervously and pays the man, then scurries out of the studio. He hides the photograph securely in his journal so it doesn’t crease, trying not to look at it at all. The ride back through town would have left him feeling even more awkward if he wasn’t too preoccupied with trying to decide if Charles will laugh at his stupid, embarrassing gift or kiss him for it. He decides he’ll let Charles figure that out as he takes the last turn towards Shady Belle and jumps off his horse while it’s still moving when he sees the man in question is walking towards the hitching post.

 

“Arthur,” he greets casually, as if they hadn’t been kissing fiercely and rutting together behind a tree just that morning.

 

“Going somewhere?” Arthur asks, fiddling with the strap of his satchel. Charles raises an eyebrow at him, but keeps his voice even.

 

“I wanted to do some scouting in the area, maybe hunt a little. Join me?” Arthur stays quiet, hesitates to even move, eyes focused on his shoes. They’re filthy, he notices as if for the first time. Charles knows him well, thankfully “Unless, of course, you need me here?”

 

Oh, Arthur definitely needs him - here,  _anywhere_ , but that’ll have to wait. Just a bit.

 

“I was in Saint Denis and I…I got you something.” Charles seems surprised, but not displeased. Arthur has never been much for unprompted gift giving, and even then he was bad and forgetful, so this is definitely new. Well, besides the time back at  Clemens Point when he had plucked some flowers for Charles, intending to surprise him by the lake where he’d been resting. Arthur’d thought he’d done fine, until Charles started chuckling at the sight of them - apparently you weren’t supposed to gift them root ‘n all, still dripping soil.

 

Charles had still accepted them gladly, but asked Arthur to not mutilate the surrounding flora in attempts to be romantic in the future. His presence was enough.

 

“Oh?” Is all Charles says, shifting his weight to his left hip and crossing his arms over his broad chest. Arthur swallows nervously and reaches into his satchel, taking his sweet time to fumble through the pages of his journal without taking it out to find the photo, and then thrusts it to Charles’s chest after risking a glance over his shoulder to check if anyone’s watching. “And what’s th- _oh_.”

 

Charles is unreadable for a few excruciating moments and Arthur wishes the ground would just open up and swallow him whole right then and there.

 

“I must admit, I didn’t expect this from you, Arthur.” He simply says, but his eyes have a glint in them that tells Arthur that he’s not displeased. The way he keeps staring at the photo and his tongue darting out to wet his lips also tell Arthur perhaps this had been a good idea after all.

 

“You like it or were you just jokin’ back then?” Charles looks up at him, something heavy and dark and predatory behind those eyes that makes Arthur shudder.

 

“I would never joke about what I want to do to you, Arthur.” His voice is deep and low, meant only for Arthur’s ears, and it shoots down his spine like liquid fire.

 

“Oh” he manages, finally, and Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, squeezes it, massaging his thumb over the sore muscle.

 

“Ride with me?” Arthur’s a bit disappointed; he’d hoped Charles would bring him out back or upstairs or, hell, kiss him right there if he actually liked the photo that much. It appears to have shown on his face, as the other man smiles softly. “You know the rules about _riding_ in camp.”

 

As he catches Charles’ meaning, Arthur flushes and scrambles up on his horse as quickly as he can, arousal pooling low in his stomach.

 

“I was going to take just the photo with me, but I reckon the real thing is better.” Charles teases him and Arthur only manages to grunt in response as they slowly ride out of Shady Belle before anyone can get the idea to join them. When they’ve passed the guard posts and are a little aways from the camp, Charles evens their horses and leans over, kissing Arthur quick and chaste on the lips. ”Thank you.”

 

Arthur barks a laugh, embarrassed “For my ugly mug? Please, keep it - I’d rather not see it, anyway.”

 

“For remembering.” Charles clarifies and Arthur can’t help but smile fondly.

 

“It…it’s nothin’, really. I dunno how this can make you happy, but if it does-“

 

“Oh, it does. And I’m going to do a lot of thanking when we’re done riding.”

 

All things considered, Arthur is sure he won’t be done riding for a while yet, but that suits him just fine, wild cowboy that he is.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Vega gave me this idea and I had to write a short drabble because these two are precious
> 
> >fixed some typos after reading over this; tablet keyboards are mean


End file.
